


(we are) far from home

by nautilics



Series: SASO 2017 Fills [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Challenge: Sports Anime Shipping Olympics | SASO 2017, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 08:28:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11986035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nautilics/pseuds/nautilics
Summary: In which the twins keep an airship running.





	(we are) far from home

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SASO 2017 Bonus Round 3: Fan Soundtracks | Originally posted [here](http://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/22341.html?thread=13710405#cmt13710405).
> 
> title & prompt from of monsters & men's ['from finner'](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H7Gr6HBMDu0)

The whistling pipes nearly deafen Atsumu when he ducks into the engine room to see what's got the airship running so hot. The gauges on the centre console are all showing alarming readings—Atsumu swears, snaps his goggles into place, and dives into the fray.

He gets engrossed in the work, so much so that when he finally takes a breather to straighten his back and wipe at his sweat-drenched brow, the rag that smacks him in the face comes as a surprise. Atsumu yelps, whips the rag off along with his goggles, and roars, at the top of his lungs: "’ _Samu!_ "

His twin doesn't even do him the courtesy of looking up from where he's elbow-deep in the machines. "You're all gross. Wipe yourself up already."

Atsumu bristles, but there's sweat trickling into his eyes and Osamu's not _wrong_. He scrubs at his face and balls the fabric up, stuffing it into his pockets to fling at Osamu later, when they're not in a room full of sensitive equipment. He levels an accusing finger at him instead. "You slacked off with the check-ups here last night didn't you? That's why everything's overheating today!"

Osamu gives him an offended look, though it's muted through his own goggles. "I did not! I did everything as usual, and everything was fine till this morning, after _your_ shift."

"Yeah, and I could already tell something was fishy here this morning thanks to _your_ lazy ass last night!"

"I'm telling you—"

A blast of steam from the pipes above them interrupts Osamu, and he swears before turning back to the machinery beneath his hands. "Anyway, the main problem isn't even in here. It's—"

"—the vents system on the outside of the ship, yeah. Figured as much." Atsumu lets out an explosive sigh. "Any chance this isn't going to end up with me going for an air-walk?"

Osamu snorts. "Not on your life."

"But _'Samu_ ," Atsumu wheedles. "C'mon, give your baby brother a break!"

"Seven minutes isn't enough to make you the baby, 'Tsumu." Osamu twists a knob tightly, before snapping the section's panel shut. "C'mon. Before the whole ship becomes a furnace and roasts us all alive."

 

 

For all of his griping, Atsumu doesn't mind the exterior work all that much. The wind is refreshing after the humidity of the engine room. With a harness secured around his waist—and his twin on the other end—there's not much to fear, even when clinging to the outside of a hulking airship, miles and miles above the ground.

It's quick work to find the problem that's been messing up the whole ship, and quicker still to fix it. Funny that such a small nuisance could cause such a big fuss.

Atsumu raps his fist along the hull, enjoying the singing of the metal, and splays his palm out. The ship is warm beneath his gloved hand, thrumming and working and alive. Beneath them, the whole world stretches out, waiting.

Atsumu grins, wide and giddy, and pulls himself up.


End file.
